


Welcome to Flohston Paradise

by Aietox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Stiles, BAMF!couple, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aietox/pseuds/Aietox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vacations usually involve relaxation, music, and other forms of recreation, but when you have a partner like Stiles, there's bound to be some form of excitement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Flohston Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Insert Standard Disclaimer here. 
> 
> Just some drabble to try and start getting into writing.

"Oh come on, Derek!” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his left foot in annoyance. "It’s one concert, and we’re supposed to be on vacation!" His exclamation reached his eyes in a huff.

Derek’s stony expression didn’t flinch even as he tried his best not to wrinkle the formal bodysuit in his grasp. “I don’t care.” His stiff posture only went against Stile’s explanation even more. No way was someone allowed to be that tense on Fhloston Paradise. “It’s the Diva Plavalaguna in one of the most beautiful and historically accurate opera houses in the galaxy. You will not go in there looking like you were just building sand castles” He gestured towards Stiles’ Hawaiian attire with his free hand.

Derek tossed the bodysuit to Stiles and turned to the room’s door, “Now, put it on. I’ll be waiting right outside.” Stiles snatched the garment out of the air on its decent and sneered and the man. Derek smirked and opened the door, “If you’re not out in ten minutes, I’m dragging you out by your ear.” The door clicked behind him as he stood vigilant glancing at the antique grandfather clock at the end of the hall.

Stiles laid the suit on the bed and began to undress, leering between the offending garment and the door, “Asshole.” He muttered and grumbled, slipping into the clothing.

-

Stiles fidgeted in his seat, alternating between crossing his arms and trying to stretch the rubber-like material of the bodysuit. The thing was form-fitting, and on a good day, he wore things at least a size larger than necessary,

"Stop that." the gruff voice drifted from his side, and Stiles shot a death glare at Derek’s impossible physique and sculpted face. An almost identical bodysuit fit snugly on his everything, and Stiles let out an annoyed huff. The only difference between the two garments would be the piping that ran down the arms, accentuated the tapered waists, and curved down the legs glowed a coal red instead if turquoise.

Derek looked back at him, smugness plastered across his features. Stiles scowled and almost called the man a litany of colorful names, but the lights of the hall began to dim. Plush, red, velvet curtains glided back to provide a breath taking view of the blue planet the cruise liner was orbiting.

The tall, ethereal woman’s voice washed over the crowd in a drape of soothing inhuman tones, Stiles allowed the tension and fight to drain out of him, evaporating into nothing and leaving him content. His eyes glazed over lightly as he drowned in the emotions the singer impressed on him. He glanced over at Derek to see the man peering at him intensely. A shy smile played on his lips as the grasped the other’s hand from the arm rest between them.

-

As the last note from the Diva’s lips died off, a roar of applause filled the arena, followed closely by the sounds of zipping pulses of laser fire and terrified screams.

Derek and Stiles jumped from their seats, postures at full height and a determined stride in their steps. They followed quickly behind the crowds of evacuating people. As far as evacuations went, a tsunami would have been better organized. Security personnel were gunned down, civilians were shoved unceremoniously along, and underneath the blurred current of it all, Stiles could hear the rumble of Derek’s sustained growl.

A massive and lumpy arm pulled him into a dis-proportioned body, and he could feel the cold steel of a blaster muzzle being pressed into the side of his neck. Stiles went stock still, his breathing coming at a faster rate.

"Stiles!" Derek dropped the younger man’s hand, but Stiles’ could feel the small pricks of the other’s claws before the grasp was lost. Taking a steadying breath, Stiles dropped to one knee and lurched forward, keeping a firm grasp on the arm around his torso. The Mangalore flipped over him, landing with a grunt on its back. Before the alien could react, Derek plunged his hand, claws and all, into its gut. Pulling back out violently, an indistinguishable organ accompanied the werewolf’s snarl. 

"That has got to be unsanitary." Stiles wrinkled his nose as Derek threw the repulsive flesh aside. The greenish ooze coating Derek’s hand and flowing unto the floor smelled of fish and rotting vegetables. 

Three more aliens rushed forward from the thinning crowd, but paused briefly as a primal roar ripped form Derek’s throat. The pause was enough for the wolf to bound forward and rake open the throat of one and round house the other in the temple. The heat of a laser’s pulse whizzed past Derek’s ear and planted into the forehead of the third Mangalore. Stiles gripped the blaster confidently from where he crouched on the ground. Derek shot him a glare, but Stiles shrugged it off, “What? It was going to shoot you.”

Looking around at the mostly empty concert hall, Derek sighed and wiped the green liquid from his hand on the vest of one of the aliens. He quickly grabbed Stiles by the upper arm and started to pull him towards the exit. Stiles stumbled a bit but soon regained his composure.

He grinned as they neared the exit and placed a chaste kiss on Derek’s cheek. “You know, as far as romantic evenings go, I’d give that an eight out of ten.”

Derek scowled, “And before the fighting?”

"Seven." Stiles eyes gleamed mischievously.

Derek chuckled and shook his head. The sounds of explosions and gunfire cause the pair to pick up their pace. Derek allowed his claws to elongate and his visage to morph. Stiles readied the blaster close to his hip.

He smirked at the wolf, “Make that a nine.”

 


End file.
